“I see blues and greens,” she proclaimed pressing her palm against my swollen belly, “…and a beautiful soul.” As if startled with revelation her eyes welled up, her voice choked. Had this wise woman intuited something she couldn’t share?
She was indeed all blues and greens. A natural swimmer blessed with lithe, slender limbs and aquatic grace. As a young girl, I recall her slide into the deep sea swells of the Great Barrier Reef snorkeling confidently amoungst the giant clams and corals. Swimming with dolphins in New Zealand, and joining the local boys as they leapt from rocky outcrops into the warm Cinque Terre waters, stories shared from her later travels.
Like many who watched the opening scene of Free Willy years ago, she dreamed of becoming a marine biologist. During her final summer, medical treatment proving highly successful, she began to rewrite ‘her story’. Full of hope and promise she allowed herself the courage to follow that childhood dream.
She became a volunteer at the Vancouver Aquarium, a first step and a last. I watched skeptically as my daughter, joyful and energized, researched available courses, made calls, readied a plan. A dear friend whose firm conviction that anything is possible effused nothing but praise and encouragement. I felt ashamed at my lack of faith. Clearly ‘my story’ needed rewriting too.
‘You can’t bring a new story into your life until you’ve let go of the old one,’ says Stephanie Tolan in Change Your Story, Change Your Life. ‘Feeling bad means it’s time to revise a story.’ But like everything, we need to be ready. I wasn’t. She was.
Two years later I found myself house sitting in Bunbury, Western Australia. A dolphin haven I discovered. Every time I found myself beside the ocean, dolphins appeared. An occurrence that eluded even the locals. I began to feel that she was with them. Was one of them. Heading home from the beach late one afternoon, a lone dolphin appeared just metres from shore swimming directly toward me. It seemed to say, ‘It’s me. I’m right here’.
If all energy is borrowed and returns to the universe when we die (Avatar) then death is not an end but a transformation. Consciousness like life, is indestructible. Our bodies are merely the vessel to house our energy.
No matter what our story, we need to stop telling it if we want to see a change. My new story is being rewritten. I’ve released the one I’ve been telling myself and others for too long. That my daughter died, why I feel justified taking a leave, and the silent, more dangerous one that goes back over recent years, more of the same. You get the idea.